The Last Miracle
by Clio S.S
Summary: Turned out to be my beloved "07-Ghost" story. It's my own vision of ending, and it was terribly hard to make up something both convincing and satisfying. Dedicated to mistlove, who actually - accidentally - "forced" me to think about the possible end.


The pale moon shone over the spires of the palace. That time a year, in the advent of summer, the nights were never dark. The sun hid beyond the horizon only for a moment - two or three hours - to rise again and keep looking down protectively at sleeping towns that needed a longer rest. The world was shrouded by a gentle glare, calm and quiet, and only few people had difficulties to settle down for sleep and let their eyelids fall in this almost magical light.

A hawkzile flew around the highest tower, then descended on its landing deck. A petite figure jumped onto the terrace. The wind, never ceasing at this altitude - too subtle to disturb the rest of the occupants of the palace - blew through his hair. Teito smoothed it down and, never turning back, made his way towards the glazed door. The sky, pale cobalt of the white night, was being reflected in the tiny window panes. The silence was absolute, as if the whole world really fell asleep. The rustle of the wind was only a lullaby.

Teito pressed on the handle carefully and opened the door. The hinges didn't even creak. He was hit then by the scent of flowers - not heavy, but nicely refreshing. He didn't need to look around, he knew that place well. The room in the top of the tower had been turned into the garden, the orangery, where various plants could grow, so close to the sun as it was possible. The palms, reaching up to the ceiling; the tiny violets, almost invisible in the greenness; the royal orchids and bindweeds hanging downs in their shoots. It seemed only the bird-singing lacked here to make this place a real jungle.

Surrounded by that colourful thicket, in the armchair next to the rosebush, rested Hakuren Oak. Teito looked at his friend, marvelling at his beauty, that the wild garden couldn't equal, only emphasized it at the most. Here, Hakuren seemed more prefect than anywhere else. Teito smiled, feeling the affection filling him. Yet, he knew - since long - it was not the Hakuren's exterior that made him beautiful, but his strong heart, faith that never wavered and the desire to make good. From the beginning and for ever.

Hakuren was sleeping. Teito spotted the sheet of paper in his hand - a message he had sent to him the previous day. Hakuren must have waited for him the whole night. Teito blinked, forcing away the tears of emotion. He still couldn't believe that someone like Hakuren could bestow the friendship on someone like him. It seemed so unreal, yet was true. Once again a thought he didn't deserve Hakuren occurred to him, and then he imagined the friend frowning with disapproval and reprimanding him for such idea. Hakuren kept rebuking him whenever Teito happened to diminish his self-esteem and combine the friendship itself with the matter of merits. Hakuren was his friend due to everything - and despite of everything.

He hesitated. He didn't want to wake him. He didn't want to disturb his sleep and he didn't want to disturb the ideal picture Hakuren made in this splendid scenery. He was ready to sit down and wait, and only look at him - as long as it took. Then, however, Hakuren moved and lifted his eyelids. The violet eyes flashed when his gaze fell on the tiny figure. He rose from the armchair - the paper flew on the floor, and Teito followed it with his eyes, distracted, but then he was already in his friend's arms.

"Teito...!"

Teito smiled and embraced him back. Then, Hakuren held him at the length of his arms and looked critically. "You've lost some weight again," he said in a tone of reprimand.

"The soldier's life doesn't aid the regular meals," Teito laughed in the response.

"You're not a soldier," Hakuren pointed out, knitting his brows.

"But a war never asks about it," was the quiet answer.  
Hakuren looked at him seriously in silence. Then a smile lit up his face. "Sit down," he said and pulled him towards the table. "Tea should be somewhere..." He looked around, slightly confused.

"No, thanks, I haven't much time," Teito said a bit reluctantly, sitting down in the soft armchair.

Hakuren looked at him critically again, but he gave in to the request and sat down as well. Teito found himself staring at his friend again, rapt with his beauty, that shone even after sleep. Hakuren's hair, pale gold, fell down on his shoulders. His amethyst eyes, gentle and sharp at the same time, were looking wisely. He seemed like an angel.

"If you haven't much time, you should spent it better than gaping at me," he heard Hakuren's cutting remark.

Hakuren was right - but then again, Teito suddenly felt he wanted to memorize his face to the last detail. "I'm glad to see you," he said in a soft voice. "And that you're all-right."

"Why should I be not all-right in the capital of the Empire?" Hakuren bridled, but got serious right away. "I'm glad to see you too. You can't imagine how relieved I am, Teito," he said affectionately. "We had absolutely no news... nothing... only some gossips. No-one could tell what happened." He stopped, but went on after a while. "It was a great shock for everyone to learn that Ayanami..." He fell silent again. "The army's in a state of chaos now; no-one trust anyone, and the separate fractions fight each other, struggling for power. Or, rather, for the favour of the Imperial Family." He sneered, but something in his voice rang softly. He turned his eyes, suddenly distracted, but then focused his gaze on Teito again. "What have exactly happened, Teito?" he asked, his words shaking with uncertainty.

Teito tilted his head, looking into the sky, brighter with every minute. Behind the windows of orangery, it seemed as close as from the hawkzile. He closed his eyes. For a moment, they were sitting in silence.

"Ayanami..."

Ayanami had been the first reincarnation of Verloren that had understood the truth of himself and decided to get back his power. His strength. His might. His dreams and desires. Forgot millennia ago, they had once more come into being - never weakened, unchanged. The last encounter Teito had had with Ayanami had been the fight for the future of the world, although the world hadn't realized it. And it had been a fight for a soul, although the soul had been unaware of it.

To come back to his original form, Verloren had had to reclaim his body, sealed in Teito Klein. All the means they had undertaken to prevent it had turned out to be of no use after all. When Verloren and Teito had faced themselves - because no-one had been able to cheat the destiny - everything had seemed to be already determined. The protection of Seven Ghosts hadn't been enough to stop the one whose goal had been clear and shrouded everything around with an infinite darkness.

Teito remembered - and he couldn't recollect it without a shudder - the frightful coldness that had overcome him when Verloren, Master of Death, had sunk into him, looking for what had belonged to him. It had been the coldness of the total void, the final death and the lack of hope. They had been fighting with someone like this. Teito couldn't do anything to drive that coldness, for, deep inside him, there had been a wish for a total annihilation.

He shivered.

However, the more Verloren had filled him with himself, and the more darkness he had enveloped Teito in, the more clear his reasons and his aims had become. In the absolute darkness one could see a sparkle that would go unnoticed in broad daylight. Beside the void and annihilation, there had been something more - not so dead, not so soulless. There had been a despair, so alive; a longing, so unappeased; a desire, burning and immortal. Teito had seen all the memories of Verloren - and he had understood.

In the moment when the final end had been close, when only a split second, perhaps even less, had separated him from the complete and inevitable vanishing, he had managed to touch the heart of the condemned God of Death and say with all his consciousness, "I do not hate you."

And cry over him, for he had been aware that Verloren's wish and desire would never come true. Verloren had known, with his absolute - and cursed - knowledge he had been given by the Creator, that Eve had never been in this world, and Teito had known it through him.

Then Verloren had drawn back, for a moment, for a thousandth part of a moment. He had drawn back, lost between a despair and an astonishment.

And Teito had released the power of Mikhail, that had never ceased belonging to him, and - begging the Chief of Heaven forgiveness for interfering in the divine plan - he had struck Verloren with it. He had aimed it at the soul that had been struggling in the darkness, deprived of the last hope - along with the load of love he had stored thanks to his dear people, along with his grief over Verloren's fate, along with the wish of the salvation for him.

It had been all he could do. He couldn't do anything else.

The Chief of Heaven had allowed a miracle. Teito remembered a moment when he had faced Him - too overwhelmed to lift his eyes or rise to his knees - and dared to beg another one.

He wasn't able to talk about it, even with Hakuren. It was a mystery beyond the grasp of mortals. The very memory made him shiver like a first man who had seen a sun.

"He went to where he had come from," he said finally. "I hope he will meet her again," he added in a lower voice.

Hakuren didn't break the silence, still engrossed in the story that didn't sound like something that simply happened to an ordinary man. Neither of them had ever dreamt they would experience something of that kind. The very memory made them feel the world would never be the same and the words of Bible would have a different ring to them from now on.

Teito looked into sky, now almost blue. The fuzzy clouds glimmered with pink. "I have to go," he whispered as if he didn't want for the words to ring in the air and turn reality.

Hakuren's head snapped. "Teito... No..." He wanted to protest, but suddenly he run out of the words. His eyes filled with tears. Teito looked at a friend, his heart clenched. He didn't wish for it to be their last farewell. Hakuren had to sense it. "You're a King of Raggs," he spoke, with all might trying to stop him.

Teito shook his head. "The Kingdom of Raggs doesn't exist any more and will never exist," he replied calmly. "This world doesn't need two realms. The Barsburg Empire will rule righteously and in the interest of everyone," he added, smiling gently.

A faint blush coloured Hakuren's cheeks. Teito smiled wider. "I can safely leave my people in your hands," he whispered whole-heartedly.

Hakuren blinked. "The Eye of Mikhail..."

"It fulfilled its mission, and Lord called it back to Himself."

"Then, the Eye of Raphael..."

"I suppose it'll remain dormant," Teito presumed. "In the undivided world no-one needs the divine tools of power." He looked at his hand and the almost invisible scar marking its back. He knew he would look at it with a kind of sorrow, but with peace, too.

He stood up. Hakuren rose too, always towering over him. For a moment, they looked at each other, unable to see clearly because of the tears. Then they hurled themselves into one another's arms. "Why do I think all our encounters are always the farewells too?" Hakuren asked, his voice breaking, although he tried to smile.

Teito swallowed, grasping the fabric on Hakuren's back. He didn't want to leave him again, he really didn't. "We'll meet again," he whispered with a sudden certainty. "Even if I go to the end of world, I'll come back to see you one day," he promised.

Hakuren hugged him tight.

"Hakuren? Who's that?" a drowsy voice reached them.

They broke away, wiping away the tears. Roseamanelle Ouka Barsburg stood in the doorway, beautiful as ever. Her long hair fell loose down to her knees, intermingled with the milky shade of her nightgown that clothed her slender body. She looked gorgeous even sleepy.

"It's Teito. We didn't want to wake you..."

The Imperial Princess' eyes grew wider when she recognized the guest. "Teito? All the more you should have waked me up," she said with reprimand, coming closer and embracing the night guest without ceremony. Teito smelled the spicy scent of her hair. For a moment, he felt like at home.

Ouka drew back, her eyes shifting between the two, looking with a feigned grudge. "So, what have I interrupted?" she asked. "I bet you were just confessing your love to each other?" she guessed mockingly.

Teito kept silent, blushing. Hakuren laughed softly. Ouka smiled.

"Don't let me disturb you," she declared with a haughtiness of the Crown Princess and left to the exit. In the doorway, she turned and gave Teito a most beaming smile. "Thank you," she said, rubbing her right hand. "I think everything will be all-right now," she added quietly, suddenly lost in thoughts, but then she raised her eyes and put with her typical vigour, "Next time pay us a visit at more decent time! And inform me too!"

Teito grinned widely, nodding. Ouka disappeared behind the door, leaving a scent of the late spring and a memory of a fleeting beauty.

"Do we really confess our love so often?" Hakuren asked, frowning.

"Don't know," Teito laughed. "But I don't care at all."

Hakuren smiled. "Me either, my dearest friend," he said, stretching his hand.

Teito took it and shook, then he nodded. "We'll see again," he repeated.

He turned and left to the terrace. He heard Hakuren heave a sigh behind his back.

The sun was already rising, turning the horizon into a layer of liquid gold. Teito squinted, looking into its disc and at the tall figure, a blurred silhouette of black against it. There he was, leaning nonchalantly against the hawkzile, hair ruffle and inseparable cigarette in his hand.

The last miracle.

Teito sat behind. The hawkzile soared into the sky. The wind blew through Hakuren's hair, his violet eyes reflecting the sunlight. Teito waved to him, looking at him until the tower vanished from his sight. He lowered his eyelids, calling on mind the face of his friend in the slightest details.

"I know what you want to tell me. I'll see him again."

Teasingly, Frau kept silent. His cloak fluttered in the blast of air. Even his rebellious hair had to give in to the blistering speed.

The world down seemed unreal. And, as always, it looked completely different from how it was drawn on the map. Although, Teito realized suddenly, he was more accustomed to seeing it from the hawkzile.

"So, where now?" Frau didn't keep silent long.

"To the end of the world," Teito muttered into the dark fabric. He could imagine Frau smirking.

"It's rather general direction," was the cutting reply.

"You'll figure something," he said in a sleepy voice.

"Don't regret it later."

Teito smiled, moving his hands onto the man's chest and slipping the fingers under his coat. Frau would probably tell him that tickling while in air can end badly, but he took a risk.

He delighted in the heart-beating he felt under his palms. He pressed his cheek to the broad back, radiating the warmth through the cloth. At last, everything was as it should be.

"With you, I'm not going to regret anything."


End file.
